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Lyrics (in singular form lyric) are a set of words that make up a song. The writer of lyrics is a lyricist or lyrist. The meaning of lyrics can either be explicit or implicit. Some lyrics are abstract, almost unintelligible, and, in such cases, their explication emphasizes form, articulation, meter, and symmetry of expression. The lyricist of traditional musical forms such as Opera is known as a librettist. --wikipedia--

(of poetry) having the form and musical quality of a song, and esp. the character of a songlike outpouring of the poet's own thoughts and feelings, as distinguished from epic and dramatic poetry.--dictionary.com--

Yo, He tries to stay positive, livin in a dead town, He can't keep his head up, he has to keep his head down He only sees ahead now, the loneliness has left and he's focused and he's over being left out. He don't need anyone now, He's givin everythin now, Look in his eyes and see it's evident noww, When he, told himself he would never be left in the ground, for those who told he would never be anythin now, he's known what he wants want he grows up, he'll do anything it takes, cuz it means so much and it's his ego tellin him he sees no love, but now he sees it's irrelevant, he needs noone. But see. As he's chasing up the outlineee, He found a plane he created to take him from the downtimee, and as he wait for it to land, when he makes it up to cloud 9, all he's gona say is it's about time.

Now that I’m all inn, I hear em calling up again. (calling up) I knew the momenttt that I was flyingg, I’d be theree, calling up.

And from the start though, they always tryed to single him out, It was hard though, It almost started bringing him down and now he laughs at the temps it’s always peaking him out but now they can’t, he ain't listening now.( he ain't listening now) They use to hit him, it would shit him so he’d fight back, and then he stopped once he figured out thy liked that. He knows exactly what it’s like to be the underdog, words had led him thinking an surprised him at the fucking top and now they got him, he’s backedd in a corner, he’s trapped but if he starts to relaxx he’s a goner. In fact, he doesn’t wanna be that kid at all, an they talk, but now he doesn’t hear that any longer. He’s fighting to make a million, Hiding away and feeling He’s trying to make a killing but he’s dying to make a living And now he’s knowing it’s a state of mind, hoping in his day and time maybe he’s finding that place within him

Now that I’m all inn, I hear em calling up again. (calling up) I knew the momenttt that I was flyingg, I’d be theree, calling up.

And he sees the big picture, what’s the point in being narrow minded? The ladders high, but he’s knowing that he has to climb it. All the shit he’s sacrificed, knowing what he has inside, he’s ready and he doesn’t need a map to find it. It’s the muscle in his chest that he’s pumping all the blood until he’s dead, knowing nothing will be left. And he can’t let it go, it’s hard to let it be.

And you can call it pride, but he can’t accept defeat.

And this for those who ain't got no voice, it ain't whether he can do it yo, he’s got no choice

Now he’s got his armour on, and they cannot stop him shoot what they want to, watch the bullets bounce of him. He finds it funny now that people had doubted him, have a look and you’ll see that they’re around again, because they know now (they know now) they see him just standing in the corner with a smile as it goes down.

Now that I’m all inn, I hear em calling up again. (calling up) I knew the momenttt that I was flyingg, I’d be theree, calling up